


From Frills and Skirts to Bow Ties and Trousers

by itsybitsyish



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Gay, Homosexual, Love, M/M, Memories, Reminiscing, Romance, Shock, Trans, Transgender, Transition, change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:15:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsybitsyish/pseuds/itsybitsyish
Summary: Sherlock hasn't always been the man he is today; rather, he has a well guarded secret that incredibly few are privy to - once, a very long time ago, Sherlock had been a girl.And, now, Sherlock wants to tell John his story.But, will John understand?  Or, will it all go terribly awry?





	

'Stop.'

  
It was the single stern command which John had heard each and every time that he and Sherlock had begun going beyond the kiss.  
They had officially been together as a couple for a few months now, and John's frustration grew as time passed by.  
He could respect that Sherlock wasn't wanting anything more than what they'd already done, could understand that there was something unspoken between them which it was up to Sherlock to decide whether or not to share.

  
Even so, it was becoming more and more difficult to restrain his wandering hands and lips.  
John wanted, no craved, that release that he'd been fantasising about for such a long time.  
Not that he would ever intentionally cross the line in that way.  
He knew better than that; John had been raised well, and knew when someone said 'no', that it was 'no' which was meant and never to push things further.

  
Even if he had been the type, Sherlock would have easily thwarted any efforts and kicked his arse mercilessly. Which, in John's mind, would have been warranted.  
As he heard that word, the one which put a swift end to any hopes of something more, John drew away from Sherlock with a frustrated sigh.  
He wouldn't ask what the matter was, hadn't asked a single time, waiting to see if Sherlock would say.

  
He could see that look, that barely noticeable expression where Sherlock's mouth was pressed together ever so slightly and his eyes crinkled a bit in what John could swear was vulnerability.  
That was one thing that Sherlock had long ago trained himself to hide away deep within himself, and that any show of vulnerability was quite difficult for him to bear.  
John's frown softened, his stomach tightening as he saw that look.  
Seeing Sherlock like that was a true rarity, and it was never something that John was comfortable with.  
Sherlock seemed nearly frightened at these times.  
Sherlock blinked, and as swiftly as it had appeared, his expression returned to his usual one.  
Suddenly feeling tired, John began to get up.

  
But, before he could take even a step, he felt a tug on his sleeve and he was pulled back onto the soft leather sofa.  
John looked into Sherlock's eyes, sensing tension in the air.  
'There is something that I want to tell you, John; it will be difficult to hear, and you may never wish to clap eyes upon me again once you learn of what I am about to reveal.' Sherlock began, doing his best to be aloof.  
Being cool about this was the only way he would be able to manage his way through this, even though Sherlock knew that it really wasn't the appropriate attitude to take when speaking about something so intimately personal.  
John wiggled to get more comfortable, listening intently. 'All right.'

  
Sherlock paused just a moment or two, before continuing on with a tinge of apprehension in his deep, smokey timbre.  
'I have pushed you away whenever you've gotten too close to me. There is a profoundly personal reason for that, a secret I've kept well hidden. Only three people know, beyond a doctor or two...' Sherlock finally felt ready to say it. 'I was not male at birth, John.'  
He allowed this to sink in, paying close attention to every detail of John's reaction - he was taking this new information remarkably well, considering the enormousness of it.  
Certainly, he looked less relaxed and somewhat puzzled, but John still sat there as he digested this.  
'I spent my early youth dressed in frills and feminine rubbish, much to my mother's delight. However, at eleven years of age I could take it no longer and began dressing as I felt was proper - boy's trousers and shirts, blazers and bow ties... I had burnt all of the other clothes in the fireplace one afternoon while my parents were out on a romantic picnic. It was then that I had taken the scissors to my long curls.' Sherlock gave a bitter half grin, his fingers curling inwardly as he recalled the event. 'My parents weren't exactly understanding. Promptly sent me away to be 'sorted out' through conversion therapy in America after I'd explained that I was not, in fact, a little girl, but a boy.'

  
John blinked, a jolt of dark energy striking him.  
He knew rather well the sort of awful methods which were callously inflicted through conversion 'therapy', and John was outraged that Sherlock had been subjected to such trauma.  
But, he remained silent as Sherlock went on. This was a momentous breakthrough, and John would be as supportive as he could be no matter how much of a challenge that might be.   
'Five years of that, and I was unchanged. Or, rather, I was still transgendered. There are invisible marks left which a dozen lifetimes could never begin to fade.' Sherlock's voice was softer as he said this, a palpable fragility that made John's heart break a little.  
'Sherlock -' John began quietly, before his words fell away.  
Sherlock gave him a tiny smile. 'I've never permitted anyone to become as intimate with me as you have been, John; but, I wasn't prepared to expose myself before now.'  
John nodded in understanding.  
It didn't matter to him whether Sherlock was male, female, or in between - this had come as a bit of a surprise to him, but John's love was beyond caring about such a fickle thing.  
Sherlock could read this in John, and he felt his body relax.  
He had been too emotional before to speculate John's most likely reaction, and had expected to be cruelly rejected.  
'None of that changes how I feel for you, Sherlock; I care about you more than anyone else. What matters to me is your well being - I wouldn't ever want you to be anyone but the Sherlock I've... Well, the Sherlock I've come to love.' John assured him, his jaw set.

  
He nodded, looking straight into Sherlock's eyes. 'Whatever might be under your clothes makes little difference to me; a person is hardly defined by their genitals, and whatever anyone else might say, I don't think that there's anything wrong with you.'  
Sherlock swallowed, grateful to hear such kindness. 'I was worried that perhaps you might -'  
'Storm out in a huff? Insult you? Tell you how much I hate you and never want to see you again as long as I live?' John asked, raising his brows. 'Do I really come across like that?'  
Sherlock was feeling even better now. 'No, however it was always a possibility that you would react in such a way.'  
John shook his head. 'I would never treat you, or anybody else for that matter, that nastily for coming out.' He sighed heavily. 'The first time I came out to someone, my brother, he beat me so badly I ended up in hospital. Made me rethink things, let me tell you. I spent years trying to convince myself I only liked women. Not that I succeeded, mind you.'  
John shook his head. 'Which is a good thing, really, because otherwise I'd never have fallen for you.'   
Sherlock's cheeks ruddied a shade, and John smiled.  
'You...' John began carefully, weighing his unspoken words. 'Yeah, you are the best thing that could have ever happened to me.'  
Sherlock chuckled. 'I thought I was supposed to be the drama queen.' He reminded John, who laughed.  
'All right, fine, but it's true.' John maintained, leaning in.

  
Sherlock closed the gap between them and their soft lips met.  
'I love you, too, John.' Sherlock vowed after the kiss ended, his tone incredibly serious. 'Nearly more than I can bear.'  
The night continued on and they spoke for quite some time, enveloped in a precious world that was theirs alone where nothing else mattered and everything was wonderful.  
Hours later, John led Sherlock to his bed where they spent the rest of the night innocently cuddled up to one another as a sense of incredible contentment enveloped them.

 


End file.
